


The Vanishing Heiress Job

by Thorinsmut



Category: Leverage
Genre: Complete, Crime, F/M, Fake Kidnapping, I Solemnly Swear that I am Not John Rogers, M/M, Multi, One Shot, a quick con, the classic gloat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23860750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorinsmut/pseuds/Thorinsmut
Summary: "Ok, Parker's kidnapped." Eliot said. "You're kidnapped right now."
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer
Comments: 40
Kudos: 311





	The Vanishing Heiress Job

**Author's Note:**

  * For [braidedribbon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/braidedribbon/gifts).



> for braidedribbon, who prompted: _I will give you kidnapping! Either the more worrisome sort that requires cute rescuing. Or the slightly more accidental sort where the cute happens while being kidnapped._
> 
> Originally posted on tumblr as part of my birthday celebration at:  
> https://thorinsmut.tumblr.com/post/616305518143750144

**Now:**

The new security guy, Sinclair, was kind of intense, but _damn_ did he get the job done!

Richard Fitzroy (heir and acting CEO of MedSure, who was mainly employed in making sure that the meds made him, personally, as much money as possible) met him in the mansion’s underground garage. Sinclair was leaning against an unmarked work van, and stood up military-straight when he caught sight of his boss. “Mr. Fitzroy,” he said, almost like it hurt him not to salute. Wearing his hair long certainly didn’t disguise his past.

Richard waved off the formality. “You’ve really got her?”

Sinclair didn’t bother to nod, just threw the van door open to show off his prize.

Miss Alice White (heiress of the Marshall-White fortune), started screaming through her cloth gag as soon as she saw them. Her blonde up-do was in disarray, eye makeup smeared from tears. She kicked weakly at him when Sinclair reached in to pull her out of the van by her bound hands. Sinclair didn’t flinch, managing her like so much baggage.

She’d lost one of her shoes somewhere along the way. She limped along lopsidedly as Sinclair dragged her, struggling, into the house.

Richard punched in the keycode, and the wall slid open to his own personal bunker. ‘Panic room’ made it sound too tawdry, when it was such a useful space. “Where are my manners,” he said, and pulled the gag down off Miss Alice’s mouth.

“You can’t do this to me, Dickie!” She screamed, eyes rolling. “My father—!”

“Thinks you’re in Cancun for the month!” Richard interrupted, triumphantly. “I’ll leave you alone to reconsider my _very generous_ offer.” He nodded to the taciturn Sinclair, who shoved her to fall—sprawling—in the bunker. “And don’t bother trying to break out. No one but me can come or go from this room!”

Richard hit the button to close the famously claustrophobic Miss Alice into the little panic room. The hiss of the seals cut the sound of her screams short.

Richard turned and grinned at Sinclair. He reached out to clap the shorter man on the shoulder, only to stop short in the face of Sinclair’s cold-reptile glare. He turned the gesture around to smooth back his own hair instead. “Well. That’s going to simplify my life considerably. Good work, Sinclair.”

“It’s my job, sir.”

Sinclair might be needlessly intense, but he was an extremely useful man to have on the payroll. Richard Fitzroy almost considered giving him a raise, and then laughed his way back to his office.

**Previously:**

“Ok, Parker’s kidnapped,” Eliot said. “You’re kidnapped right now.”

“Oh no, how terrible,” Parker deadpanned. She checked her makeup in a little hand mirror, to be sure it was sufficiently smudged, and then quickly tied her wrists up with a bit of rope.

“Sharp turn,” Eliot warned, and Parker braced herself on the floor of the van.

“This is gonna work,” Hardison sounded nervous over the coms. “I mean, we know nothing in the world can hold you, babe. And Eliot will be right there if Dickie Fitz tries anything hinky. It’s going to work fine. It’ll be fine.”

Parker rolled her eyes, and shared a smile with Eliot about their nervous partner. “We’ve planned it to the second,” she reminded. “And I’ve got the world’s best hacker to break me out if anything goes wrong.”

“Oh, hell yeah!” Hardison agreed. “The man overpaid for his security system. I mean, it’s nasty, but a Steranko it is not. I’ll have you walking out of there whenever you give the word, babe.”

“Just about there,” Eliot warned.

“Got it.” Parker kicked one of Alice’s shoes under the driver’s seat, and ran a fingernail up her ankle to run her stocking. Eliot parked the van as Parker tied a gag around her head. Extremely nimble even with her hands bound, Parker. She smiled up at him, eyes crinkling up, and Eliot rested his hand on the top of her head, a brief second of affectionate contact, before he pulled the morally bankrupt persona of Adam Sinclair around himself and slammed out of the van to wait for Fitzroy.

Parker screamed theatrically when he threw the van doors open. Eliot 'dragged’ her up to Fitzroy’s panic room, and he did not laugh as Fitzroy locked the world’s best thief into the room where he kept all his most damning secrets.

**Now:**

Everything went wrong after that.

Alice White vanished. Her father started breathing fire over conference call. Then one of Alice’s custom-designed shoes was found in Richard's work van, and the fall guy, Sinclair, pulled a runner with astonishing competence.

Richard Fitzroy’s security was left in complete disarray with Sinclair’s disappearance, so nobody stopped his MedSure office from getting raided. Then, somehow, the profit-padding paperwork was in his file cabinets there instead of in the bunker? And calling his flashy new lawyer, Joe, gave a wrong number, time after time.

Richard was down to his last contingency plan in the course of an afternoon, but the FBI caught him before he could board his private yacht and head for international waters. As he was cuffed and led away, he caught sight of three figures—impossibly.

Adam Sinclair, standing with one arm around Alice White’s waist, and the other around the lawyer, Joe Miller, the very man who’d convinced Fitzroy that a deal with the Whites was the only way to keep his side deals from going public.

They all three smiled. Alice and Joe leaned into Sinclair’s solid form and waved goodbye.

The FBI agents didn’t seem interested at all in listening to Richard explain that he’d been set up.


End file.
